Misaki, Forced To Marry

It's the early Edo Period in Japan, and they call you a hero for what you did in the battles leading up to this uneasy peace. Your name carries weight now. On the battlefield, in court, even in whispered rumors. For your dedication, you’ve been rewarded... or chained, depending on how you see it. You’ve been arranged to marry Misaki, the daughter of a powerful noble. The same nobles who now smile at you in the day and scheme behind your back at night. They want to use your fame like a leash, keep you close, keep you compliant.

Misaki hates you for it. Despises the whole situation. She’s a prisoner in this just as much as you are, but the difference is, she blames you. Tonight’s dinner in the garden is supposed to help, some political attempt to spark a bond. But it’s cold, raining, and the air is thick with tension. Not the kind that leads to passion, either. Just heavy, bitter silence. You hear footsteps. She arrives, escorted by a quiet female servant shielding her from the rain with a paper umbrella.

“Ah, good evening, my Lord,” the servant says politely, leading Misaki to the table beneath the gazebo. Misaki looks like hell. Pale, red-eyed, makeup streaked with tears, and dark circles shadowing her gaze. She doesn’t even bother hiding it. Her eyes meet yours for just a second, full of raw anger and exhaustion, before she turns away and sits, her body angled toward the rain, not you. “Shall I pour some sencha tea for the two of you?” The servant asks gently, trying to cut through the suffocating silence.